The Love Song Series
by Silver Saddle
Summary: One line from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock a rather long poem by T.S. Eliot, if you didn't know is the title and what the story is based on for each of this collection Remus LupinSirius Black oneshots. IF YOU DON'T LIKE SLASH, DON'T READ THIS!
1. Prolgue

M'kay, this is just the wonderful poem these stories are all connected to.

Disclamer: Harry Potter is not mine. It is J.K. Rowling's.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is not mine. It is T. S. Eliots.

* * *

Let us go then, you and I,  
When the evening is spread out against the sky  
Like a patient etherized upon a table;  
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,  
The muttering retreats  
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels  
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:  
Streets that follow like a tedious argument  
Of insidious intent  
To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .  
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"  
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go  
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,  
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes  
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,  
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,  
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,  
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,  
And seeing that it was a soft October night,  
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time  
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,  
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;  
There will be time, there will be time  
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;  
There will be time to murder and create,  
And time for all the works and days of hands  
That lift and drop a question on your plate;  
Time for you and time for me,  
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,  
And for a hundred visions and revisions,  
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go  
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time  
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"  
Time to turn back and descend the stair,  
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair--  
They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"  
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,  
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin--  
They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"  
Do I dare  
Disturb the universe?  
In a minute there is time  
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:--  
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,  
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;  
I know the voices dying with a dying fall  
Beneath the music from a farther room.  
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all--  
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,  
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,  
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,  
Then how should I begin  
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?  
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all--  
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare  
But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!  
Is it perfume from a dress  
That makes me so digress?  
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.  
And should I then presume?  
And how should I begin?Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets  
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes  
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .

I should have been a pair of ragged claws  
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!  
Smoothed by long fingers,  
Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,  
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.  
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices  
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?  
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,  
Though I have seen my head grown slightly bald brought in upon a platter  
I am no prophet--and here's no great matter;  
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,  
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,  
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,  
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,  
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,  
Would it have been worth while,  
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,  
To have squeezed the universe into a ball  
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,  
To say: "I am Lazarus come from the dead  
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"--  
If one, settling a pillow by her head,  
Should say: "That is not what I meant at all.  
That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,  
Would it have been worth while,  
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,  
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the  
floor--  
And this, and so much more?--  
It is impossible to say just what I mean!  
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:  
Would it have been worth while  
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,  
And turning toward the window, should say:  
"That is not it at all,  
That is not what I meant, at all."

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;  
Am an attendant lord, one that will do  
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,  
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,  
Deferential, glad to be of use,  
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;  
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse  
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--  
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old . . .I grow old . . .  
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?  
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.  
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves  
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back  
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea  
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown  
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

* * *

Umm, This isn't mine, so you don't have to review.

StarrWolf (My really name is Lyara, so that's what I'm going to be signing with.


	2. Let us go, You and I

Let us go then, you and I.

Remus stood watching Sirius's back, as he walked down the hall.

"Sirius, wait! I didn't mean it. Wait!" Remus called down the hall at Sirius's retreating form.

Sirius wiped around and shouted, "No Remus, I'm done waiting. I love you, but you, you've just been putting me off too long, I can't live like this anymore. Good-bye."

"Sirius, no, I love you." Remus called despairingly.

"Well you could have told me sooner," yelled Sirius, his frustration, rage, and love being let out all at once.

By this time, both men's eyes were watering. Tears cascaded down their faces. Sirius's blue eyes turned silver, and Remus's yellow turned gold.

"Well, then," said Remus, "Let us go then, you and I."

"No Remus, that won't work anymore. Nothing will work. I won't go with you anymore. I WON'T BE HURT ANYMORE BY YOU. I'm done." screamed Sirius, who once again wiped around and stalked away.

Remus stared in shock; he never would have suspected that from someone so level headed. James walked up to him and said, "I'm sorry mate, but he had a point."

"I know," sighed Remus, "but what should I do know?"

"Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Does he love you?"

"Possibly."

"If I were you, I'd run after him."

"Okay."

So with that, Remus broke into a run, heading for the doors of the castle. He reached the door, and ran down the steps and stopped.

On the horizon, loped a giant black dog, one that would never come back.


	3. When the Evening

When the Evening is Spread out Against the Sky

Remus was standing on the Astronomy, looking at the sky. There was one star in particular he was looking at. The Sirius Star. The Dog Star. The namesake of the love of his life. Sirius Black.

Of course, Sirius was one of his best friends, and not his boyfriend. In fact, Sirius didn't know he was liked by one of his friends or that one of his friends was gay.

Remus sighed. Sirius would never like him. His daydreams were foolish.

The door opened and flooded the balcony. Remus didn't bother to turn around. He was hoping that if he ignored them, they would just go away.

Remus jumped at the voice of the one he was just thinking about.

"Hey Remie, watch are you doing up here?" asked Sirius.

"I'm looking at the stars. Why are _you _up here?"

"I was bored, so I wanted to get some fresh air. What star are you looking at?"

Remus was caught of guard, so he pointed to the dog star and said, "That one." and immediately realized his mistake. _Oh shit!_ Was the one thought running through his mind.

"Really," Sirius asked slyly "and why, may I ask, were you looking at my namesake?"

What Remus didn't know was that Sirius actually did know that he liked him and that Sirius liked him back.

Still what was going through Remus's mind was _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit what am I going to do_?

"I was thinking about you." Remus finally answered.

"Oh, what about me were you thinking about? My lovely doggy charm perhaps?" said Sirius, a smile creeping across his face.

Remus was scared now. Sirius was hitting to close to home.

"Oh nothing in particular, just this and that." he quickly responded, maybe to quickly.

Sirius moved over to lean on the rail with him and said, "Do you know why I actually came up here?"

"No"

"To think about you. You know why?"

"No" said Remus, his breath quickening. Sirius was starting to lean very close to him.

"Because of this." and with that Sirius kissed him on the lips. A quick, gentle brush of the lips and pressed something into Remus's hand. Sirius quietly moved away, back down the stairs to the Gryfindor Tower.

When Remus looked into his hand, there was a little slip of parchment which said,

Dear Remus,

Don't you just love nights were

"when the evening is spread out against the sky?"

T.S. Eliot

Love,

Sirius


	4. Like A Patient

Like a patient etherized upon a table

Worry coursed through Sirius. Remus, his more-than-friend, was in the hospital wing, possibly dying. Stupid full-moon! Stupid faulty floor board in the Shrieking Shack!

Remus had fallen through a floor board during the full moon, and had been stuck there all night, tripling the severity of his wounds.

Remus lay etherized on a Hospital Wing bed, while Sirius paced around it. Remus lay breathing from a charm that forces you to take in and let out oxygen. Remus lay _dying_.

No! Sirius thought to himself. Remus will not die. He couldn't. Sirius hadn't told Remus he loved him, so Remus couldn't die. If he did, Sirius would kill himself. Literally.

Sirius sat down on the chair next to Remus and took his hand. His pale eyelids fluttered on Sirius's contact.

"Sirius?" moaned Remus.

"Shhh, Remus, it's okay, I'm here," soothed Sirius.

"Sirius… I love you," whispered Remus. Sirius sat stunned. He had never suspected this.

"Y-You do?" stuttered Sirius.

"Yes, that doesn't bother you does it?" croaked Remus.

"No, Remie, no it doesn't. Not at all. I love you to."

"Good," said Remus and he fell asleep again.


	5. Let Us Go

Let Us Go, Through Certain Half-Deserted Streets

Hand in hand, Remus and Sirius walked down half-deserted streets. They we're content. There was no other place they'd rather be than with each other in Diagon Alley, looking for their own house. They loved each other. So when Remus gently whispered Sirius, "Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets."

And so they walked. They walked in love.

Umm… no more updates until I get more reviews. Don't yah love me?Lyara


	6. Of Restless Nights

Of Restless Nights in One-Night Cheap Hotels

Sirius and Remus were running through a muggle town looking for a cheap hotel to stay the night. It was pounding rain and Sirius and Remus were running under a newspaper to avoid getting soaking wet. It wasn't really working.

"Sirius," Remus shouted, "we need to get to a hotel! I'm freezing!"

Remus's clothes were shredded and he was covered in wounds. His hair was a mess, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was bleeding from a couple places. It was the night after the full moon.

"I know Moony, I'm looking."

They ran for about another ten minutes, and then Remus pulled Sirius over into a little alcove.

Remus pointed at the sign and said, "I found a hotel."

They hurried in to a small lobby. There was a small TV playing some movie that had a boy that looked just like James with green eyes. Around the TV were a couple wooden chairs and a floral loveseat. Next to that, there was a little wooden desk with a man behind it. On the wall, there was a picture of a flying horse, which was the name of the quaint little hotel.

The man behind the desk welcomed them in with a, "Oh, you boys must be freezing. Come, come, let me find you some rooms."

He flipped through a little book and said, "Ah, it seems we only have one room, is that fine with you boys?"

Remus looked at Sirius and said "Yes that will be okay."

"Then could you please follow me?"

Remus and Sirius had gotten into the room and immediately noticed that there was only one bed.

Remus, as always, immediately volunteered for the floor, "I'll take the floor Sirius."

"No you won't. I'll do it. You're hurt, you take the bed."

"Siriu-"

"No Remus, you take the bed."

"Okay, thanks." Remus didn't actually think he could take sleeping on the floor.

Sirius and Remus got ready for bed and went to sleep.

"Goodnight Remus." said Sirius sleepily from the floor.

"Goodnight Sirius." said Remus, turning off the light.

Remus couldn't go to sleep. Being this close to Sirius after three years brought back memories of how much he had loved the other boy during his school years. But that had changed now. He had thought. He sighed and role over again. To bad Sirius didn't love him too

Sirius heard the other boy roll over again and again and again. He also heard Remus sigh quite a few times. He wondered what was bothering him. Sirius sighed too. He couldn't be this close to Remus again and not remember how much he had loved him during school. Oh well. To bad that Remus didn't love him as well.

He heard Remus sigh again and decided to ask what was wrong. He got up and sat at the foot of Remus's bed.

"Remie?"

Remus sat up and said, "Yes Sirius?"

"What are you thinking about? I mean, you kept sighing, is their something wrong?" asked Sirius.

"Yah, Sirius, there is." sighed Remus again.

"Wanna tell me?" asked Sirius gently.

Remus considered what he was asking and choose his word carefully.

"Sirius, have you ever been in love with someone who you know doesn't love you" Remus said after a moment.

'Oh, great,' thought Sirius, 'He's not only not it love with me, he's in love with someone else'

"Yes," was all that Sirius actually said.

"Do you ever wish that they would realize you love them, but you don't want to tell them?"

"Everyday. Right now, actually," Sirius said, and then realizing what had just slipped out.

Meanwhile, gears were turning in Remus's head. Then something clicked. Was Sirius saying that he liked him? No, no that couldn't be true. Could it? It couldn't hurt to ask. Or could it?

"Sirius, are you saying what I think your saying?" asked Remus in a low whisper?

"Well it depends…."

And then Sirius kissed him. Not a pressing, demanding kiss, but a sweet, gentle, and passionate kiss. Remus and Sirius were both thinking, 'Oh God, finally!'

"…is that what you were thinking?"

"Yes, happily." responded Remus, the happiest man on earth.

* * *

Review or I will not update! Please?!

Lyara


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